


Torchwood Drabbles

by buhfly



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Established Relationship, Gen, M/M, The Doctor's Hand, maybe i should have tagged it multi?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-26
Updated: 2006-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-18 10:13:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buhfly/pseuds/buhfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Random, unconnected drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gwen Cooper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode tag to 1x03.

You'd think it would take longer, getting attached to them. Aside from Jack's overly friendly bearing--and that hardly counts, as close to his chest as he keeps his cards--the rest of them aren't exactly the kind of people Gwen usually makes fast friendships with.

There's Owen who is Owen and that automatically precludes any kind of meaningful conversation. Tosh is more interested in computers than people--though she's very sweet and Gwen thinks if she could just get her away from her computer screens for a few hours, they could really talk. Ianto is pleasant and efficient and...well, to be honest, he keeps things to himself more than Jack does sometimes. Half the time she feels like she's talking to a mask, that she can't see the man behind it. He _does_ look particularly good in a suit, though.

So you wouldn't think it, but there it is: a week or two in their company and she cares about them. Not just in the way that she cares about everyone, but she _cares_. She wonders what they want to do with their lives, where they've been, how they joined Torchwood. She wonders if, deep down, Owen is as lonely as she thinks he is. What does Tosh have planned for her next holiday? Does Ianto practice that receptionist smile in the mirror? What does Jack _do_ all night?


	2. Toshiko Sato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode tage to 1x07.

It's a little like school, actually. That was why she'd always preferred computers to people; computers didn't make fun of your skirt or give you funny looks or whisper maliciously behind cupped hands.

"Good morning, Tosh."

She smiles at Ianto and means it. In a way, his thoughts had been the most painful but they'd all been focused inward; she didn't even blip on his radar. Until now, she's never realized what a blessing being invisible can be.

"Good morning, Ianto." She slips inside the passage when he opens it for her and makes her way down the hall. It's cold and her fingertips are icy but she's moving slower than she normally would, dreading it.

Owen's not in, yet, of course. Somehow that doesn't help. Tosh goes to her desk, giving Gwen a vague half-wave on her way there.

She sits at her desk and it's suddenly easy. She can pretend it's all business, she can pretend it didn't happen, she can pretend she doesn't _care_ that it happened. Anything is possible. If they can do it, she can do it, and there was obviously a lot of pretending going on.

She's deep into a translation program by the time Owen gets in. She doesn't have to pretend that she's too distracted to look up at him. He doesn't say hello.


	3. Ianto Jones/Jack Harkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Christmas party; smirk, open, music.

They didn't do a real Christmas party at Torchwood Three, not like they had at Torchwood One. Instead of renting the ballroom at the local hotel and everyone getting smashed on an open bar, it was Christmas music in the background and pizza between tracking an alien ship and retro-engineering alien tech.

Ianto carried the coffee around to everyone slowly and carefully. Tosh flashed him a genuine smile of thanks when she took hers, Gwen smiled wanly, and Owen didn't even look up. Jack took his and replaced it with a small, brightly-wrapped package.

"Sir?"

Jack sipped his coffee and made his rather obscenely happy face. "It's a present. You know, you open them and go, 'Oh, you shouldn't have.'"

Ianto gave his patented half-smirk. "While I'm a bit confused as to why your impression of me includes falsetto, I do know what a present is. It's for me, then?" He set the tray down on the desk and picked it up.

"Yes, it's for you," Jack answered with a look.

"I didn't get you anything, sir."

Jack waved a hand. "It's the thought that counts."

"I didn't think to get you anything, sir."

He fixed him with another look. "Just open the present, Ianto."

"Yes, sir."

He picked up Jack's silver letter opener and slit the tape slowly and carefully, taking great care not to rip the paper. Despite popular opinion, Ianto was not quite this controlled; he quite liked ripping into wrapping paper, but Jack's expression of suppressed frustration made the wait more than worthwhile.

"It's a box." Ianto gave him his blank receptionist smile, eyes twinkling in amusement. "Thank you, sir. I've always wanted a box."

Jack looked ready to commit mayhem. "Open the box, Ianto."

It was too small and flat to be a watch and too big to be cuff links. Ianto was fairly certain Jack hadn't gotten him jewelry. "Right now, sir?"

Jack took a deep breath and a deeper sip of coffee instead of answering.

"Right, sir." He opened the lid, which was hinged in the back, to find a brand new sterling stop watch nestled on a bed of sapphire blue silk.

Ianto caught his breath, staring at it while Jack watched him, his own smirk returning.

"It's...a stop watch, sir."

"Indeed it is."

"...Thank you, sir."

"Oh, I'm sure you will."

Ianto's mouth went dry and he snapped the lid closed, pocketing the box and picking up the tray off Jack's desk. "Will there be anything else, sir?"

"No, not now. Later."

He nodded and tried his best not to scamper back to his reception desk.


	4. Ianto Jones/Jack Harkness/The Doctor's Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is...attached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not my fault. Sue requested it! How could I say no?

"You're not bringing it to bed again, are you?" Ianto went up on one elbow, sheet slipping down to his waist. "Not again, Jack."

"You're too pale, Ianto. You need some sun." Jack hopped--literally, which made Ianto scowl and grit his teeth--into bed, cradling the hand's container against his chest. "And why not?"

"Because it's cold. And bloody strange."

"Lots of things are strange, Ianto, we work for Torchwood."

Ianto had to concede that point, but hell if he'd do it out loud. "Anyway, I don't think it's healthy, your attachment to that thing."

Jack gave him a wounded look and cuddled the container. "Don't talk about him like that."

"It's not a _him_ , Jack. It's a _hand_. A _severed hand_."

Jack frowned, mouth thinning, brows drawing together. "I know what he is, Ianto. And you're being rude, talking about him like that while he's right here."

Ianto flopped onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes. "It's something I did, it's got to be. In a past life, possibly. This must be karma."

Jack snuggled in next to him, all happy smiles again. "Don't be silly. Say goodnight to the hand."

Ianto ignored him until he couldn't take the feel of Jack wiggling the container against his arm anymore. " _Goodnight, hand_!" he snapped.

"Give him a kiss."

"Jack."

"Ianto."

" _Jack_!"

" _Ianto_!"

He dropped his arm with an exaggerated sigh and pressed his lips momentarily to the glass display. Inside, blue lights buzzed and the liquid bubbled happily. "There. Happy now?"

Jack grinned and cuddled under the covers, arms around the cylinder as if it were his favorite teddy. "Quite."


End file.
